Arden of the Sea
by Andrea Falls
Summary: Jack has returned to Arden's life, but what can he offer her now? Please r/r.
1. Author's Note

Yikes! Sorry, I didn't know I wasn't the first! I'm the first I've ever seen, so, yeah. Classical wishful thinking there, sorry JadaDora! Thanks for letting me know, though. I appreciate it.  
  
And it is a bit short, but I think I'm coming along nicely on it. Thank for the review!  
  
By the way, if any of you reading this have a *Pirates of the Caribbean* fic, let me know-I'd love to read it!  
  
This is about the third time I've revised this, but I've completely forgotten about it; Setting is important, right? They taught me that in school, I should heed it.  
  
I imagine that this would take place a good five years before the actual movie, mostly because I don't want to go into all that mess. Sparrow isn't as completely off his bloomin' rocker as he is by the time the disney landmark takes place, and he's younger(let's call him 25? 26? Somewhere around there; he grew up on the seas, so he's all rough up by now, and I imagine him to be quite the ladies man, no matter what age). And yes, she is a bit of a mary sue; but can you blame me? She's not too badly written, and there's a history there, which will be unfurled in the next few chapters. Am I really so bad for putting a little bit of my personality into a character?  
  
Thank you for taking the moment to read this.  
  
I own nothing except some strong, unmentionable emotions for the three main characters of PotC and a few x men comics. PotC is copyright of Buenavista(Disney, Gore Verbinski; you know the drill team) and Arden is copyright to myself, that pretty little wench. 


	2. Back in Town Prologue

Her voice cut through the rain and encased him in velvet. She pressed into his arms with a slick cool, like the night around them. She was familiar, but was she this young when he'd seen her last? This sweet? He'd appreciated her; they danced, drunk, and come back home. The talking and reminiscing had led them to the dark, listening to the rain beat down like applause.  
  
"Captain?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Do you know where the rest of my clothes are? I can see-"  
  
"Why would you worry about clothes so quickly, luv?" He asked, trailing his fingers over the skin of her hip.  
  
"Well, when you dance and dine a woman, and then bring her home, you tend to chuck them out in the morning," She sounded sad.  
  
"Know me that well, do you?" He mused. "I think I'll not. I think I'll have you about, ask you what you've been up to for three years," His voice dropped to whisper. "I think I may want to keep you."  
  
She seemed to think this over for a moment, turning to look at him. She brushed his messy hair away from his face, her grey-green eyes boring into his questioningly.  
  
"Stay with me a while longer, Arden," He kissed her lightly. "Just a while, if you'd prefer."  
  
Her dark face broke into a smile. "I think I might prefer," She purred, pressing her face into the hollow of his neck. He smoothed a kiss into her hair and held her tightly, drifting off to sleep. 


	3. Take you out

"Jack."  
  
Something shook him out of dream, and his blood-soaked hands faded away to blackness. Jack Sparrow groaned and buried his face further into the sweet smelling softness that he lay in.  
  
"Jack! Come on, wake up, Jack"  
  
"No, no, go away, it's my treasure, you can't have it."  
  
"As much as I wouldn't dispute that, you have to wake up!"  
  
Light tried to seep into through his eyelids, and he fought to kill it. He groaned and bared his teeth, his fists trying to clench.  
  
"Come on, Jack. Stop it, you're practically biting me. Jack, stop! Ow, my wrist, JACK!"  
  
He bolted upright with a sharp intake of breath, found that he was no longer in the presence of treasure; well, not the mass of galleons and silver he'd been dreaming of. A dark young girl with inky black hair sat on his floor, his sheet stretched across her body and clenching one wrist.  
  
"What the hell were you dreaming?!"  
  
"Nothing, luv, nothing at all," He surveyed the room and looked at her appraisingly, taking in the picture of her face that he'd not seen since she was 17, the face he'd dreamt of more than once in the years at sea, listening to the trill of the voice that he'd only remembered.  
  
"Uhhuh," She snorted, gathering the sheets and standing up. "And stop looking at me like that. I knew you'd do this," She looked down around her and dropped to her knees, picking up ripped and worn clothing.  
  
"Do what, Arden?" He asked, stretching ceremoniously.  
  
"You were drunk last night. Okay, so I was as well, but I knew as soon as we kissed..." She looked pained, the sheet balled in one hand and her shirt in the other. "I should told you no. I should have stayed in the pub and stopped it at one drink."  
  
"Pet," Jack reached out for her, and she took a step back. "I wouldn't kick you out."  
  
"Not like last time?" She asked bitterly.  
  
Jack groaned. "Is that what this is about?" He asked, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Arden, I thought we had gotten past this. We talked about this last night."  
  
"Jack," She kneeled again and pulled the top over her head, letting the sheet sink to her hips. "I don-"  
  
Jack clambered to the floor in front of her and took her face in his hands. Arden felt old feeling rising in her chest; remembering all those nights on a hardwood deck, feeling his rough hands on her skin. She could almost taste salt water.  
  
"I don't think I can stay," She said in a thick jerky voice. Her tone was low and mechanical, as if she'd rehearsed these words her whole life. Her eyes never left his, wide and oddly glassy. "I need to get out of here."  
  
Jack moved his hands to her waist as she tried to move away. Her hands shook terribly as she reached for her pants, and she had difficulty tearing her eyes away.  
  
"Let me help you out, then?" He asked, pulling her back. Her hands went to his chest, keeping a distance. "Please."  
  
For a moment, she looked as if she would cry. Then something fiery flashed in her eyes and she pushed him away, hastily sliding into her pants and shoes, stomping toward the door.  
  
"I knew it! You only want one thing, Sparrow!" She raged away from him, tying the cord around her waist. "It's all you've EVER wanted!"  
  
"Come on, hold on!" He staggered to his feet, catching his shorts as gravity tried to set in. "Hold on, Arden, wait!"  
  
"Why don't you do just what you always do, Jack? It will suit us both!"  
  
"Arden, please!" He followed her as she passed through the door of his run down summer shack and into the streets. "What do I do, luv?"  
  
"You leave, Jack!"  
  
He stood in his doorway, fist seized around the band of his shorts, watching her walk away. All those old aches and pains came back to him, including what walking away had done to him the first time.  
  
"Damn, Arden," He stepped back inside and closed the door, shuffling forth to pick up his sheets. "I tried to get you out of town." 


	4. Captain Jack Sparrow, aye?

So far, so good. Thanks Catrina; no, you're thinking of Anna Marie(I believe that was her name; she had my middle name and I was pleased). Arden is the persona that I took directly after exiting the movie, and I was forced to change my earring to golden pirate hoops.  
  
Arden threw the pub doors open, breezing past patrons.  
  
"Say, Klane, where did you get off too last night?" The surly, lank woman behind the bar grin in a sleazy way. "No pun intend, acourse."  
  
"Go stick your head in a keg, Owan, I'm not in the mood!" She glared at her, climbing the stairs to her room.  
  
"I'll need you to be workin' tonight, Arden," She called up the stairs. She looked back into her face, nearly blocked out by her greasy gray hair.   
  
"That all depends if I'll BE here tonight, Owan," She called over her shoulder, throwing her duffel on her small bed. She began to pack clothes in messily, feeling the anger verging on pain. "I'm getting out of this town as soon as I can!"  
  
"Oh, is Cap't Sparrow back in town then?"  
  
She closed the bag tight and slung it over her shoulder, storming down the stairs.  
  
"Owan, I would say I'd miss you, but-Why would I lie?" She glowered at her, slapping a dollar bill down on the counter. "Give a drink to go on, aye?"  
  
"He is in town, ain't he?" She grinned in an bitter way. "You're running away from him, ain't ye?"  
  
"Just give me a drink," She growled.  
  
"You are," she said, reaching absentmindedly to pour a drink for her. "He come back, all presentable and lovable, come back looking for you, even. Where did you go last night, girl?"  
  
"I went to bed."  
  
"To bed with Jack Sparrow?"  
  
Arden's eyes flashed over the rim of her glass. She slammed the drink and threw the glass down hard on the counter.  
  
"I won't be back, Owan. And I won't send regards. May you rot in hell," She said lowly, pushing back from the counter and torpedoing herself out of the seedy tavern.  
  
Jack checked the door again, pressing the lock hard. He'd come home hoping to find something, and was leaving on the next ship out with exactly what he'd come in with; nothing. The clothes on his back and the hat and rag on his head, and his life was headed back for the Sea.  
  
A ruckus was breaking into the streets from the tavern near the docks, spilling light into the black street. He watched the drunk man crash through an opposing window and wondered what he was thinking when he'd decided to go ashore a mere 24 hours beforehand. He passed the mess of broken glass, stepping into the bar.  
  
It was a different world there, full of shouting and light, the smell of rum everywhere. To Jack, it was nearly better than the smell of a woman.  
  
"Give us a strong one, eh steward?" He asked, reaching out to tap the bartender. A surprisingly ugly woman turned to face him, smiling.  
  
"How strong?"  
  
"Strong," He said sternly, looking into her face. "Were you tendin' here last night?"  
  
"Acourse I was; I own this place. And you ran off with my wench."  
  
He blinked a momentarily, taking his drink and glaring at her.  
  
"Wench?" He asked. "Is that how you treat a woman who works willingly for only room and board 'round here?"  
  
"She ran out on me this afternoon, told me to rot in Hell. I'll treat her memory how I like," She gave him an oily appraising look. "I can't believe she was runnin' from you."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Oh yeah," She seemed pleased, as if this was what she had waited for. "She's been wanderin' the streets waitin' for a barge outta this town since you seethed her way from you this mornin', just trying to ignore the cat calls and ugly sailors that threw galleons her way!" She laughed. "Just look for yourself."  
  
The hinged door swung in the breeze, and he caught sight of a small figure in the moonlight, inky hair glowing silver. Whistles still sounded in the air around her.  
  
"Pathetic, ain't she?" The woman grinned malicously at her form. She looked up and found that her conversation partner had left his stool, and was leaving for the street. "Oy! What about my payment?!"  
  
She threw her hands up in disgust, downing the remainder of the drink, and smashed the glass at the threshold of the bar.  
  
Arden shifted from foot to foot, her bag hitting her back uncomfortably. She could feel her heart beating up in her temples. They was a ship setting out soon, there had to be. She would be approached out here in the dark, or worse...  
  
"Arden?"  
  
She jumped defensively, bringing her hand around in instinct. He caught her wrist, preventing the back of her hand from connecting with his face, but barely.  
  
"Jack!" She hissed at him in the dark. "Jack Sparrow!"  
  
"That's not how you said it last night, luv," He smiled gently, moving closer and taking her hand.  
  
"What are you doing?" She demanded, wrenching her hand free and glaring at him.  
  
"Listen, Arden, I just don't want you hurt. It's dangerous out here for an attractive young girl. Last I checked, you were beautiful, and 20."  
  
"I don't need your help, Sparrow," She said coolly. "I'm only waiting for a ship, and then I will never see you again."  
  
"Come with me, pet," he said softly. "I'm gettin' out in an hour, and I can get you onto any ship you want to be on."  
  
Her eyes, back under the moon, softened and she looked at him appreciatively. "Can you, Jack?"  
  
"*Captain*. *Captain* Jack Sparrow," He grinned in a cocky way. "I can get you in anywhere." 


	5. Pain of Death, Luv

Okay, author here; I changed a bit in the prologue about her eyes, partly because Violet is so rare, partly because I had a better idea, partly because, as my Beta says best, I have no backbone. I bend to most of your people's wills, so feelfree to make suggestions. I only ask that they're polite, please. Now, enjoy the newest chapters of Arden of the Sea.  
  
"Sparrow, you sodding fool!"  
  
"Look here, mate, she's only one little girl, and she don't eat enough to starve the rest of you," Jack pushed into the short, burly man's face. " She needs to get out of here; it's not good for her! Look at her, she'll be killed here on her own!" He held a hand out to her.  
  
Arden stood on the dock, her bag at her feet. She was aware of her appearance, her long black hair falling over her shoulders and her clothes ragged, and self-consciously aware of how familiar this situation was.  
  
"Sparrow, I told you that *you* had a standing invitation, but I never mentioned anything about little whelps you happened to courtin'-"  
  
"Wait a minute!" She stormed forward, tossing her bag at Jack's feet. "There is no courtin' goin' on here. I need a place to go, and he said he could get me out. Can he, or can he not?"  
  
The man looked her over, pausing at her arms and face. He looked to Jack.  
  
"Can she lift? Cook? Anything useful?"  
  
"Excuse me, you can address me directly, sir," She said hotly. "I can cook, lift, build; any job you need me for I can do. I just need to get away from here."  
  
"Sparrow, it's bad luck to have a woman on board, especially one so damned independent," He said lowly. "If we capsize, it's on your head."  
  
"Ah, Kepburn, you old scoundrel!" Jack smiled brightly, taking the man's hand. "I knew you had a heart somewhere in that massive chest of yours!"  
  
He held a hand out to Arden, scooping up her bag and escorting her aboard.  
  
"You won't regret this, Arden, luv, I promise you," He said beneath his breathe as the Captain turned away. "I swear on pain of death for you."  
  
Hours later, she cursed him, clutching her stomach as nauseous cramps flooded her body with pain.  
  
"Oh, Arden, you're going to be fine," He said soothingly, holding her close.   
  
"You'll get your sea legs soon enough."  
  
"Oh so much for my legs, what'll happen to my stomach!" She moaned loudly as the ship gave a lurch, listening to the rumble of thunder from somewhere far. "You told me I wouldn't regret this!"  
  
"Ah, pet, what's to regret?" He asked pleasantly, stroking her hair. He remained as calm as ever, his stomach hardly moving under the assault of the sea. "You spent a year out here with me, remember? You'll be fine, you just need to adjust."  
  
She gasped sharply, taking hold on his shirt in her fist and pressing against him. Jack smiled and leaned back against his bunk, thinking that this was how it was best; a ship on the sea, an obliging captain at helm, and a pretty lass in your bed. Of course, it would have been fit for a dream had said pretty lass not been cursing him to hell and beyond, but he settled for what he could get.  
  
Hours passed and soon she had passed into a light sleep, still moaning and breathing hard. Jack found a great deal of appreciation for a woman who could continue to curse his specific soul even while she slept.  
  
"No courtin', aye?"  
  
He looked up and found Kepburn, the burly, battered old fiend of a captain, standing in the doorway. His unshaven face and sea-salt coloured skin stood out against the dark wood cabin, his muddy brown eyes flickering from Arden to Jack.  
  
"Oh, come off it, Kep," Jack shook his head. "I'm just watchin' out for her safe-being."  
  
"Her safe-bein'?" Kepburn chortled. "She's the one who talked her way onto this vessel, Jack. She better than you."  
  
Jack chuckled weakly.  
  
"There'll be work in the mornin'. Reckon she'll be up to it?"  
  
"Oh, I'm sure," He nodded, patting her lower back gently as she moaned again, her fist tightening around his shirt.  
  
Kepburn smiled sourly, turning away and leaving them in the quiet cabin.  
  
"Alright, pet, time for bed," Jack moved slowly, shifting her so that she would lie in the bunk he had originally set to occupy. But she clung to him, and he took pity and lay down beside her. It hadn't been so hard the previous night, after all, her pained groaning and the cold sweat pouring over her skin not withstanding.  
  
His stomach gave a single, defiant lurch as he drifted to sleep, reminiscing of his days of greater youth and of a girl with the heart of pirate. 


	6. Pirate's Smile

***Flashback chapter***  
  
"No Women!"  
  
Jack paused, listening to the beginning of a brawl. He tightened the length of rope he held to the deck and moved toward it.  
  
"Cap'n, please! She's got nowhere to go!" A young blonde barmaid stood at the ramp, gliding up to the ship, trying to convince the ship's burly, balding captain. "Her parents are dead, and she's got every pint of pirate's blood runnin' in her veins."  
  
"And?"  
  
"Well, let's see your forearm," She glared at him.  
  
"Look, I've got no use for women, especially useless, mute women. There's no room here for her," He said hotly, watching the blonde closely.  
  
" Well, I've got no more place for her!" She retorted. "Please, Arden Klane needs to be at sea. She's traumatized just now, and rightly so! She's seen her Mother shot and her Father hanged for Piracy," her voice was desperate. "Don't let them kill a 16 year old girl as well."  
  
The captain softened. "I'm sorry, I've no room. I can't take her."  
  
The wench broke with an agitated sigh and turned, leading a slim, dark skinned girl away by her upper arm. She looked back at the ship with longing, stormy eyes.  
  
"Cap'n, sir, let her take board with me," Jack said suddenly, stepping forward in a self-surprising decision  
  
"Now, Sparrow, I do-"  
  
"No good to condemn her, sir. I'll teach her what she needs to know. I'll watch her."  
  
The Captain looked from the women, who shared distinctly different expressions of relief and happiness, to the young man.  
  
"Very well," He said finally, stepping aside for him. "She'll be your responsibility. Her mistakes will be yours."  
  
Jack eyed the girl, assuring the Captain and weighing the thought of what he'd just set himself up for. She wore fine boots and lush green pants tailored for her body, but a man's shirt that was obviously not hers. It was billowing around her, tanned with sun and age. Her face was stoic and her eyes glassy, obstructed by strands of ragged, snarled black hair that had come free from a green silk cloth.  
  
"My name's Jack Sparrow," He said softly, reaching out for her hand. "Would you allow me to take you on board, Arden?"  
  
She looked directly in his eyes, unnerving him with her extraordinary stare. Her dark skin had an odd pale look to it, and she had a chain around her neck that plunged into her shirt.  
  
The blonde woman looked at the end of her rope, her hand tight around a small, tightly packed green bag.  
  
She urged her forward, but Arden grabbed at her. "Come on, girl!" Her patience finally gave way and she shoved her forward.  
  
Arden stumbled, stretching her hands out and catching Jack. He supported her, glaring at the wench.  
  
"What're you doing?" He asked softly. "You said it, she's seen her parents killed, and you'll just toss her aside?"  
  
"Oh, don't start with me," She spat. "Mr. Bleeding heart-well, it don't suit a pirate."  
  
"There's no bleeding heart, miss, just a respect for innocent people," He helped Arden up and snatched the bag away. "Good day, miss."  
  
"Good day, Sparrow," She said mockingly, faking a curtsey and walking away "We'll see you around, then?"  
  
"I'd count on it," He called after her. "You'll know my name better than your own one day, wench, I swear."  
  
Arden looked helplessly between the two, taking no action to follow the blonde woman, but no real emotion as to the ship.  
  
"Alright, pet, I reckon you'll be needin' some rest, then?" He turned to her, taking his mind away from the irritating blonde. "Hows about I show you to your quarters?"  
  
He took her hand, which was tense and stiff in his fingers, and led her up the gangplank. She held back a moment before following him, sliently, her eyes unwavering on him even under the stare and whispers of the other crew. Finally, her led her down a small flight of stairs and into a small, mahogany cabin.  
  
"There's but one bed, but I'm happy to fashion a hammock for meself and a useful barricade, and-"  
  
She looked away from him, sound coming from her.  
  
"Hm?" He leaned closer to her.  
  
"Thank you," She said again softly, in a sweet, trilling voice.  
  
"Aw, it's alright, Arden," He hadn't heard that in a long time. "I only hope we can drop you off someplace nicer than here."  
  
Her eyes swelled as she snapped them back up. Jack studied them, the colour of wet mahogany, and saw a modest amount of fear. Her breath was catching.  
  
"Would you really?" She asked timidly.  
  
"Um, well, We'll do what you want, eh?" He patted her hand awkwardly, setting her bag down on the bed as her breathing ebbed. "I can see you don't want to be left alone, and we'll do our best."  
  
She only looked at him blankly, a muscle in her cheek twitching.  
  
"Arden, give us a smile, luv," he said softly, brushing her loose hair back. She smiled weakly and the twitch withdrew. "That's right. This'll turn out for you, I promise." 


	7. How Interestin'

Wow, such responsive folk! Thanks so much. The previous upload, which was the previous chapter's replacement, was just to replace two words in one sentance near the end, and update Arden's yet again changed eyecolour. Dark Brown ain't so remarkable anymore, aye?  
  
And Galaxy; I have ideas, not many, but I can stretch them. Thanks for gettin' me booty in gear.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Huh. That's interesting."  
  
Arden peeked over a hasty, familar baricade and attempted to decide if his first comment of the morning was directed to her silhouette against the thick white sheet, or to the large, rather nasty bump rising on his forehead.  
  
"Mornin' Sparrow," she cooed. "How your head feel? Recoverin', are we?"  
  
"If your voice weren't as pretty as a red sunset, I'd toss you overboard," He groaned. "And do you realize how distractin' it is to set up a white blockade infront of a porthole?"  
  
"It's all for you, Jack," She teased, running a hand across the bottom hem. He followed it closely. "You're a pig, do you know that? A pig-"  
  
"Pirate, luv, there's a difference."  
  
"Not much," She said coolly. "And I happen to like the ocean breeze."  
  
"Found your stomach, then, have you?"  
  
"Figure out why I clocked you, yet, Jack?"  
  
"So it was you, aye?" He smiled, then winced. "Knew I liked you for a reason."  
  
"Because I won't tolerate your roaming hands?"  
  
"Because you're such a spitfire; anyone else would've woken me."  
  
"One should always let sleeping dogs lie, Captain," She smiled, stepping out from behind her cover.  
  
Jack drank her in. She had changed drastically since the last time they'd shared a cabin; no longer a shy and frightened 16 year old, she had grown up. Her hair was somehow sleeker, her body a little less lean than the previous journey, where she had suffered in quiet nad grieved the death of her family. She hadn't changed her style much, still wearing fine leather shoes and loose linen floods. She no longer wore men's shirts, but her own was just as aged, an off white from the sun, worn to shreds around it's hem sleeves tied up around her shoulders. Her silk scarf was gone and her hair only barely concealed several gold hoops of varying sizes on her ears.  
  
"What are you gawkin' at?" She asked, placing her hands on her hips and narrowing her eyes. "There's work to be done." 


	8. Call Me Home to You

Jack felt the muscles in his back twitch, taking several steps backwards in fast estimations, mostly of how high his tolerance for pain was at that very moment, and ran at the side of the ship in a gesture that he had no way of knowing he would ever repeat.  
  
The next few seconds passed quickly with little noise save a severe rush in his ears. That was how he knew he was going to hit the water hard. He could have been flying, and then it was agonizingly obvious that he was not, as the water clapped over him, stinging his face. But he saw her, sinking, looking blissful. She had stopped fighting to swim upwards. He screwed his breath to a sticking place and kicked vigorously against the water towards her.  
  
For a moment, the only thing Arden could think was that the sun had felt marvelous on her back. But even that went away, overwhelmed by the fatigue. She was so tired, and no wonder! Those waves had been so heavy, and she'd fought to keep her head above water so hard.  
  
But her arms and legs seemed to have quit on her, and soon she had been dropping downward. Her lungs were burning now, and little by little she was watching her air slip away from her, escaping to the surface without her.  
  
But maybe that wasn't so bad. Everying was tuning down; the cold of the water was wearing off, the heat in her lungs was burning away to nothing, even the pain of what were probably several cracked ribs that the masting had caused was going away. She felt as if she could lay back with the water all around her and watch all the moments of her life pass by behind her eyelids. She could see her mother smiling and fussing with a simple and pretty white dress when she was young, and her father pressing a kiss to her forehead and smoothing her hair. She could almost feel the small brand on her father's inner forearm, just outside the bend of his elbow. She could hear the way her mother cried when she told her that she wanted one just like his. She remembered the blood splattering across her shirt, the way it sounded hitting her skin. She remembered how cold the breeze that was making her father sway in that sickened way felt. She remembered crying until she was raw and tired and utterly slack.  
  
Arden wondered why she even tried to hold her breath. The water was becoming darker every moment, fuzzing around the edges of her eyes. Her arms closed around her, and she felt her own mark, the brand on her inner forearm, just outside the bend of her elbow, and thought that the water might be a nice place to wait for her parents.  
  
She let her head loll back on her shoulders and saw that a blurry shape was bearing down on her. A blurry shape with a snarled, black cloud around what appeared to be it's head. Hands reached out for her and grabbed her tightly, and she was no longer falling. Her eyes were heavy, and she could barely keep herself awake.  
  
'It was a lovely day,' She thought with great difficulty, "but I don't know that I want that loneliness.'  
  
It was only when the searing pain in her chest and sides came back, and her mother's crying was ringing in her ears, that she realized that she was worried about the time between her and the surface of the water. 


End file.
